


a little hush hush

by canonlytrans



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), F/M, Homestuck Renaissance Kink Meme, Moirails With Pails, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonlytrans/pseuds/canonlytrans
Summary: Sollux can't sleep. His moirail helps him sleep via getting him off. It's a win win situation for them both.





	a little hush hush

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Terezi and Sollux are moirails and they fuck. Any sort of AU is fine, but I'd rather they'd be happy then not. It could be an exploratory new thing, or something settled and comfortable. Maybe they're in space, maybe not. Maybe it's all on Alternia, maybe it's a mixed species world. They just gonna be safe, happy, comfortable and fucking on top of their pile made of computer parts and scalemates.

Your head feels heavy. You suppose this isn’t abnormal - you’ve been awake for hours, working on programming, and that’s not weird for you, because you’re Sollux Captor, and you’re half dead, and blind as fuck. The only reason you even manage to get any programming done is because of text-to-voice, and vice versa. Doesn’t mean you can see the product of your making when it’s finished, but Aradia _always_ excitedly tells you what it looks like, describes exactly what your latest app does (if you DIDN’T know what it did, you’d be thankful, but of course you know what it does, you’re the one who made it.)

Your moirail is asleep in the other room. You’re pretty sure she fell asleep while on call with a friend - probably Dave or Karkat, now that you think about it. So yeah, there’s Terezi, crashed on the couch, snoring up a storm, and that doesn’t help your head-feeling-heavy blues.

You just ignore them, stretch, yawn, turn off your computer, and make your way into the other room, crashing on the couch next to Terezi. She doesn’t move, just snores even louder at you, one arm flopping down over your stomach. You’d laugh if you weren’t so goddamn exhausted, it’s four pm and while on Earth C that’s regular hours, you’re still both trolls, and Terezi’s fucking terrified of sunlight.

Then Terezi moves, lets out a chrr, and touches your face. “Sollux?”

“Who else would it be?” you ask, and she traces a human dick onto your face in response. You know it’s a human dick ‘cause she’s done this a hundred times. “‘Rezi, quit that.”

“Nope!” she says, giggling a little, and she presses a chaste kiss to your mouth. “I’m hungry.”

“Hi hungry, I’m tired,” you groan, and she groans in response.

“But you’re not gonna sleep, are you?” she asks.

God does she know you well. Terezi Pyrope gets you like how oil and gasoline don’t mix. She gets you in ways that nobody else does. Maybe it’s your shared lack of sight, maybe it’s that the two of you both lost Aradia to Terezi’s ex-moirail. Maybe it’s a lot of things, but whatever it is, you don’t care, because it means you have Terezi.

So you reply with a quiet, “No.”

Because you know you’ll just dream about being blinded again. You’ll dream about Eridan attacking you. Or you’ll dream about something else equally horrible.

“Want me to blow you?” Terezi asks, and you can tell she’s serious ‘cause she’s done this before. You both have a penchant for getting the other off so they sleep. “Or I could fuck you… if you want, I mean.”

You laugh and pull her closer, because god do you love your moirail. “Shit, please.”

“Pile?”

“Pile.”

She manages to move from atop you and scoop you into her arms, taking you over to your pile while she presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and eyelids. A piece of something computer-y digs into your ribs, so you move and it’s a scalemate plushie instead, _thankfully_. Terezi trails her sharp nails across your skin, and you’re already a _tiny_ bit breathless with anticipation. She pulls up your shirt, probably leaving faint gold marks across your skin with her nails as she does, and she presses kisses to your stomach, making your back hitch off the ground a little.

Her lips are chapped, and she pulls down your pants and underwear, coaxing your bulge out of it’s sheath with her mouth. Her tongue is slow, lips pulled over her teeth so she doesn’t accidentally hurt you - you’re not pitch, teeth isn’t something either of you want in your palemance. Her fingers glide across the hard skin of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine, her lips ghosting down your bulge, chapped skin rougher than usual.

“What do you want?” she asks, squeezing at your thigh. You imagine she’s looking around where your eyes must be, and though neither of you can see, you take her hand and squeeze it back.

“Just to get off,” you say, humming.

She smirks against your skin, and licks a stripe across your bulge, which tries to curve around her tongue. She shakes her head, pulling off with a “blegh” and lets out a small sigh, curling her fingers against your bulge and pumping it slowly, her fingers catching on the small ridges near the base, and you let out a noise akin to a chirp, your hips rolling up to try and gain more friction.

She takes her hand away, and you whine.

“Sollux, tsk, tsk. You didn’t ask what I want.”

You probably sound a tad desperate when you reply. “What _do_ you want?”

“I wanna get off too.”

“Then fuck the shit outta me or somethin’. I’m dying here, just lemme get off so I can dream about this or something. Please.” You grab her hand, pull her on top of you, kiss her forehead as softly as possible. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Best ‘rail I could ask for.” She moves so she’s straddling you, and you realize she must’ve ditched her pants at some point, because her bulge is out, slithering towards your nook. 

You try to push your hips closer, get her inside of you faster, but she laughs and digs one nail into your thigh - acceptable for now, but you want her in you. “Shhh,” she says, and gives you a little pap on the shoulder, and you let out a little chrr-laugh at that.

“Please,” you say, and squeeze her hand tighter.

She lets out a giggle that’s so Terezi it’d be recognizable in a crowd of a hundred people, and pushes inside of you, pulling your legs around her waist. You do her one better and get one over her shoulder, so you’re sort of bent in half at the waist, half in the pile and partially off the ground. She slides out of you, then thrusts back in, before settling and letting her bulge do the work - it’s moving, sluggish and slowly, inside you, undulating and pushing in as deeply as possible. Terezi lets out a soft little sigh and squeezes your hand, her other hand gripped lightly around your bulge.

It’s nice, and you can think of a thousand ways to thank her for this - but you won’t need to, because she wants this as much as you do. Maybe pailing isn’t a rail thing, but it’s a you-and-Terezi thing.

She pushes inside you again, her hips grinding haphazardly against yours, and she moves instead to lay across you, let her bulge do all the work, just kiss your neck with a little too much tongue. It makes you laugh, and you get your arms around her, pulling her closer, letting go of her hand. Her other hand drops the grip on your bulge - you whine in retaliation, licking her neck and up to her ear. She tastes like sweat and mud, and it’s gross but right now?

You couldn’t care less.

“Pail,” she mumbles, and you let out a groan.

She pushes into you, a little frenzied, a little too fast, and your groan becomes a moan, her name spilling from your lips on repeat as you get closer and closer, your nails digging into her back - thank god they’re short. She laughs into your neck, then thrusts harder, harder, twice then she slumps against you, and you can feel genetic material spilling out of your nook, and the feeling’s enough to make you reach down and grab your own bulge and pump it once, twice, before you join her, everything going hot and _bright_. For a moment, it’s like you can see again - then, after a minute, maybe two, pass, you’re just slumped in the pile, your limbs intertwined with Terezi’s.

She’s way too cold against you. Damn tealbloods.

You push her off of you and she lets out a whine. “Fuck you,” she mumbles, burying her face in your neck.

You’re exhausted, spent - whatever other terms are useful, they fit. But you’re tired. You just want to sleep and not wake up, but there’s a mess to clean up, even if your legs sort of feel like jelly right now.

“We need to clean up,” you say, nudging her.

“It can wait. M’tired. And still fucking hungry.”

You laugh, and close your eyes - even though it’s useless, you’re blind.

And by god, do you get a dreamless sleep.


End file.
